


We Are Here, Now

by Lovely_Destruction



Series: Despite Your Past, I Love Your Future [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25892353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovely_Destruction/pseuds/Lovely_Destruction
Summary: Yennefer finally learns what Andrea meant to Tissaia, and how she ties into Tissaia's past.
Relationships: Tissaia De Vries/Original Female Character(s), Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Despite Your Past, I Love Your Future [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878913
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	We Are Here, Now

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy the second part of my Tissaia/OFC. Loved the characters and realized their story wasn't over. It still isn't, so I can't wait to write it.  
> Enjoy!

Tissaia worried the pendant hanging around her neck between her fingers as she reread the letter. It’s penned in a neat scrawl, words meticulous, carefully wrote one after another. Tissaia imagines she’d recognize the script in thousands of years from now.

_ Dear Archmistress de Vries, _

_ This is correspondence in regards to your inquiry for sending a new mage. I have decided to accept your offer of placing a new mage in my Kingdom. I will attend your Ascension Ball with my King. It has been many moons,  _ Tissa,  _ I cannot wait to see you. _

_ Kindest regards, _

_ Queen Andrea _

Since Tissaia, taking up the mantle of Rectoress of Aretuza, had left the kingdom, Andrea had refused another mage to her court. With this fresh batch of new mages, one would be going to the kingdom which had first opened its doors to Tissaia following her own ascension. Tissaia had to make the right decision on who to place in Andrea’s Kingdom.

She troubled herself for days leading up the Ascension ball on who to place in Andrea’s kingdom, but she thinks she found a young mage who would be well suited in the small coastal kingdom.

Tissaia was chatting with some fellow mages, watching a few of the newly ascended girls dancing with their new Kings.

The door to the Grand hall slides open and Tissaia’s breath catches as her gaze falls on the Royal family who just entered. The two Monarchs approach her, easily slipping through the crowd, until they are standing in front of Tissaia. There is a young boy clutching the skirts of the Queen, timid in a way most young royals are not.

Tissaia tips her head in a show of respect when she finally meets the Queen’s eyes. “Queen Andrea, I am pleased you finally decided to accept a mage into your court.”

Torran smiles and replies instead of Andrea, his tall frame looming over Tissaia. “We agreed it was time,” he says, arm wrapped around Andrea’s waist.

Tissaia smiles tightly, waves a hand, and the new mage appears at her side. She curtsies to the King and Queen before her.

“Your majesties,” she says, smiling wide under their gaze. ”An honour to meet you.”

“King Torran, Queen Andrea, this is Calliope,” Tissaia introduces, hand coming up to rest on the girl’s shoulder with a smile directed to the young girl. She misses the dark look that briefly flashes across Andrea’s features, busy smiling at the young mage. 

“A dance, Calliope,” King Torran suggests, reaching out an upturned hand.

“I’d be delighted, your majesty,” Calliope replies, taking the King’s hand and following him to the dance floor.

That leaves Andrea, her young son, and Tissaia.

Tissaia smiles slightly as she catches Andrea glancing at her. “Can I help you with anything, your majesty?”

“Of course not,” Andrea’s voice husks in Tissaia’s ear as she leans closer. Tissaia’s breath hiccups in her chest and she remains still as Andrea chuckles and kneels to her son’s height. “Tobias, go with your guard to our chambers. You can sleep in there,” she murmurs. He nods, wrapping his arms around his mother’s shoulder with a toothy grin and turns to follow the guard standing slightly behind him.

When Andrea stands again, she holds out her hand, her grin wider, violet eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just like when we first met,” Andrea says.

Tissaia shakes her head, chuckling, but takes the proffered hand. “One dance,” she insists.

“I’ll take anything,” Andrea says, sweeping Tissaia into her arms and onto the dancefloor.

They quickly settle into the movements, Andrea taking the lead. Her hands rest gently on Tissaia, snugly keeping the mage in her arms. 

“I was surprised when you turned a mage away after I left,” Tissaia murmurs after a moment, eyes drifting up to meet Andrea’s. “Even more surprised when you finally agreed to take one into your court.”

“Torran and I agreed that with Tobias around a mage could be useful,” Andrea replies. Her own eyes dip to the pendant around Tissaia’s neck. She smirks but says nothing about it. “I’ve missed you, Tissa,” she whispers instead.

Tissaia sighs, eyelids fluttering closed and she leans more heavily into Andrea. “I missed you too.”

_. _

_. _

_. _

_ Can you hear me? Tissaia, can you hear me? _

The words echo through Tissaia’s head and she gasps, sitting up abruptly. “ _ Andrea? _ ”

“Afraid not, Tissaia,” Yennefer drawls from where she is leaning against the doorway.

Tissaia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off the beginnings of a headache. 

“Why have you come, Yennefer?” Tissaia questions, fiddling with a quill on her desk, making sure it lies just right, in its place.

Confusion flickers on Yennefer’s face and she steps further into the room. “Vilgefortz said you asked for me,” she pauses as Tissaia’s frown deepens. “To help with stopping Nilfgaard.”

“I did no such thing,” Tissaia retorts, nose upturning as Yennefer still moves towards her desk. She pauses, head tilting when Yennefer stops and seats herself. “But I will admit, you are a welcome asset if you choose to join us. Come to the Chapter meeting tonight, you’ll see why we need as many mages for our cause as possible.”

“The great Tissaia de Vries is asking for my help,” Yennefer says with a snort. “Have you ever done that before?”

Tissaia rolls her eyes, sighing. “If you don’t want to, Yennefer, you can leave now. I have matters to attend.” She grabs the paper on top of her desk and immediately regrets it. It is the letter, written to her a long time ago, by the woman long dead. Her jaw tightens with a click and Yennefer sits up and closer, eyes narrowing.

“What is it?”

Tissaia opens the top drawer of her desk and slides the letter in carefully, wary not to rip the frail parchment. “Nothing to concern yourself with.” She sighs, folding her hands on top of her desk. “If you will not come to Sodden for the Brotherhood,” she says, pausing. “Then do it for me.”

Yennefer’s eyes widen slightly and her gaze roves Tissaia’s. She stands abruptly, moving for the door. “Fine, I will help.”

Tissaia nods once, head tilting down to hide her small smile of relief. “Thank you.”

Yennefer pauses by the door, looking back at her former teacher. She was not sure what was shifting between them, but what happened in Rinde is still on her mind. Tissaia has become more volatile, her chaos brewing closer to the surface, even now, Yennefer could feel her own chaos reaching for it, the static in the air thickening.

Tissaia looks up sharply. “Enough, Yennefer.”

Yennefer sighs and steps from the room. Why did she even agree to help? She wanted to be far from these people and the walls of Aretuza as soon as possible.

.

.

.

“If she were alive today, no doubt her father would have sent her to attend Aretuza. Though I would have no doubt she would have mastered anything she set her mind to,” Tissaia murmurs, surveying the girls, the nobility that never had their conduit moments. Money, coin, ruined everything these days. Nothing was genuine.

Yennefer pauses, drink halfway to her lips. 

Tissaia shakes her head, the wistfulness disappearing from her eyes as she clears her throat. “I apologize, I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Tell me about her, this Andrea.”

Tissaia shakes her head, fingers fiddling with her pendant. “Maybe another time. We should retire early, we leave at first light tomorrow. I will see you in the morning, Yennefer,” Tissaia says softly. She nods and moves away, Yennefer watching her go.

Eventually she would get the truth from Tissaia. This Andrea would not remain a mystery forever, in fact, she knew a good place to start looking.

As quietly as possible for herself, Yennefer slipped from the grand hall in Aretuza towards Tissaia’s study.

She’s a little surprised there are no wards around the study, but, then again, who would dare be stupid enough to break into the Rectoress’ office.

Yennefer starts at the desk, slipping the top drawer open and finding the letter. The scrawl is neat, meticulous, but it’s the words that shock Yennefer.

_ Tissa.  _ In the time Yennefer had known the stern Rectoress, she never believed the mage would have a nickname, and never would have believed this Queen was close enough to her that she would call her by such.

“Who are you,” Yennefer whispers into the empty room. Her fingers graze over the words and she gasps when images push into her mind.

_ Tissaia is standing on a balcony, looking out over the gardens. She’s enjoying the peace, the breeze on her face, and she gasps when arms wrap around her. _

_ “Princess,” Tissaia scolds, turning in the other woman’s arms. _

_ Andrea is smirking as she gazes down at the mage. “Enjoying yourself, Tissaia?” _

_ “I was,” Tissaia says pointedly. Andrea smiles and chuckles, hands on Tissaia’s waist, turning the mage until she’s looking back out over the gardens. _

_ Andrea steps in closer, the warmth of her body seeping through Tissaia’s dress. Andrea ducks her head, dark hair tickling the nape of Tissaia’s neck and she presses her lips softly against Tissaia’s shoulder. _

_ The princess says nothing else, remaining quiet, and sighing contentedly. Tissaia’s heart clenches painfully against her chest and she lays a hand carefully over the one wrapped around her. She doesn’t quite recognize the feeling bubbling within her being, but her chaos prickles everywhere Andrea touched her. It felt a little like love. _

Yennefer gasped, stumbling away from the desk and the letter, back colliding with the bookshelf.

Love? Tissaia loved this Andrea, this Queen from what seemed like centuries ago. She truly thought Tissaia never felt those human emotions but it must be the reason why she practices such tight control of her Chaos.

Tissaia must have stored this memory in the parchment of the letter, giving it magical properties and preserving it for all these years.

Yennefer slid the letter back into the drawer and breathed in deeply. This was too much, it brought up too many emotions from her time within these halls that she wished to avoid. Once this battle at Sodden took place she was done, no more would she be at the Rectoress’ beck and call.

.

.

.

“What? You are not going to enjoy your possible last night screwing Vilgefortz,” is the first thing Yennefer says after Tissaia gestures her over.

Tissaia raises a brow over the cup of ale she holds out for Yennefer to take.

And Yennefer clenches her teeth. This is not how she wanted this conversation to go.

“I am in no mood to fight tonight,” Tissaia says, glancing to where the man is talking to a few other mages. He sees them looking and flashes a quick smile. “Vilgefortz is an old friend.”

Yennefer scoffs and takes a swig of ale. “An old friend who you follow into battle at a moment’s notice.”

Tissaia turns to meet violet eyes. “I am the one who had the idea to gather the mages, he encouraged the movement and helped me recruit mages.”

“You arranged it?” Yennefer’s voice holds a note of incredulity. She laughs. “Well, Rectoress, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Tissaia watches the grin that breaks across Yennefer’s features and pauses. After this, there would be no turning back. She places her mug of ale beside her, and takes Yennefer’s from her hands, placing it down as well. “What are you-”

Tissaia begins to walk away and when she does not hear Yennefer right behind her, she looks over her shoulder, raising a brow.

“Are you coming, piglet?”

Yennefer paused, this was the volatile Tissaia she would be following. Yennefer could feel the prickle of static run up her arms as Tissaia’s chaos thrums into the air.

She cannot resist Tissaia’s pull, though, and she follows her into the tent.

“Tissaia,” Yennefer begins. The tent is bigger on the inside, a neat little trick most mages learned very early in their training.

The sight before her, stalls her movements. Tissaia’s dress is slipping from her shoulders.

Yennefer gapes, breath stuttering in her chest. It’s the most bare skin she’s seen on the Rectoress. Even in the bathhouses, she never bathed with the students as some mages did.

“Tissaia?!” Yennefer swallows as her voice comes out slightly more pitchy than normal.

Tissaia turns, batting her lashes, stepping out from the gown pooling at her feet and a slight smirk curls her features. “As I said, I’m in no mood to fight tonight. We must save our energy for that for tomorrow,” Tissaia purrs. When Yennefer still gapes, eyes flicking down Tissaia’s figure unconsciously, Tissaia frowns minutely. “In Rinde, you wanted everything,” Tissaia says, arms opening and gesturing to herself. “This,  _ this _ , is everything left I have to give. It has to be enough.”

Yennefer is nodding before she can stop herself and she steps forward. The air crackles between them, thick with tension. “It’s enough.”

Tissaia grins, a breath escaping her lips. “Good,” she replies, holding out her hand. “Now come here.”

Yennefer is quick to move, fingers grasping for Tissaia’s. The older mage’s finger’s are warm, and they tighten around Yennefer’s, tugging her closer until the two are flush against each other.

“Kiss me, Yennefer,” Tissaia whispers, breath ghosting over Yennefer’s lips. 

Yennefer growls, fingers gripping onto Tissaia’s hips, holding her close. “Tell me I’m not dreaming,” she demands. “You really want this?”

Tissaia’s eyes soften and she lets out a soft chuckle. She reaches up, brushing hair from Yennefer’s face, cupping her cheek. “We are here, now. So, kiss me and find out,” she purrs.

Yennefer grins, hands leaving Tissaia’s hips to cup the nape of her neck and pull her in, lips crashing together.

The two stumble back towards the bed, hands roaming each other, never parting for more than a moment.

Needless to say, Triss, hearing something in the night, is mortified when she finds the loud noises coming from a tent she was pretty sure she saw Tissaia set up. She’s only slightly relieved when she runs into Vilgefortz on the way back to her own tent, with the intent of washing her ears out. At least the ArchMistress has some respect for herself.

.

.

.

Hours later, the night at it’s darkest point, Yennefer and Tissaia are lying beside each other.

Tissaia has a soft smile on her face when Yennefer turns onto her side to get a good look at her.

Yennefer pauses, not wanting to ruin whatever calm atmosphere had settled over the. But in the end, as always, her curiosity gets the best of her.

“If tonight is our last night on the Continent,” Yennefer begins.

Tissaia interrupts with a sharp gaze. “You are not dying tomorrow, Yennefer. I will not allow it while there is still breath in my body.”

Yennefer shoots her an exasperated look but continues. “Tell me about Andrea. Please.”

Tissaia hesitates, chaos around them spikes and Yennefer’s hand finds Tissaia’s over the covers, stroking long fingers.

“She was clearly important to you. I’d like to know why.”

Tissaia sighs, turning closer into Yennefer as well. She meets Yennefer’s imploring eyes with hesitancy and pursed lips. “Are you sure you’d like to know?”

“Yes,” Yennefer says, no hesitation. “Tell me as much as you want.”

Tissaia grimaces, then nods, and she sits up, wrapping the blanket over herself for modesty, leaning back against the headboard.

“When I ascended, I was placed in a small coastal kingdom. The Kingdom of Vekaera. They had never had a mage before and I felt a lot of pressure being chosen as their first. My ascension ball, I met the King, and the Princess.” Tissaia pauses, smiling softly. “It was an experience.”

Yennefer chuckles at Tissaia’s amusement. 

“She was quite different from any princess I had met before. Think similar to Calanthe. She would not let her father be alone in a room with me. It was like she could sense it, and would appear from nowhere, or send someone to retrieve me.”

“This was Andrea?”

“Yes,” Tissaia breathes. “She once punched Stregebor at an event at Aretuza. He made a comment about me sleeping with the King and she was pissed. I kept her tamed most of the night but when he alluded to wanting a turn with him, she lunged for him.”

Yennefer bursts out in laughter. “Wow, wish I could have done that.”

Tissaia sighs, meeting violet eyes. “When I was offered the position at Aretuza, she was already Queen and refused another mage, for quite a long time afterwards.” Tissaia’s fingers press light on her pendant.

“You left quite an impression.”

“And she did on me.”

Yennefer reaches, covering Tissaia’s fingers with her own. “This was hers?”

Tissaia nods. “She gave it to me my last night in VeKaera.” Tissaia pauses, taking a deep breath. “When she was on her deathbed, injured from a battle with so many grey hairs, she asked a favour of me. She asked for me to look out for her family line. She had to marry when she became queen and had two sons. So when she died, I lost myself for a while but I kept an eye on her children, and their children.”

“Lost yourself,” Yennefer murmurs, brow furrowing.

Tissaia frowns, fingers worrying faster on the pendant, throat bobbing as she swallows. She reaches out a moment, fingers lighting against Yennefer’s temple. Images flash through Yennefer’s mind.

~

_ A forest was burning, smoke billowing. Lightning forked through the sky illuminating what little of it you could see. There was screaming, crying, the ground shaking and splitting open.  _

_ And there Tissaia stood on the cliffside. Her hair was a wildmane around her shoulders, redstreaks illuminating under her skin, hands outstretched towards a raging sea. Tissaia’s figure collapses, and immediately it all stops, falling still, destruction all around her. _

_ ~ _

_ Next image shows Tissaia, laying on her back on a cot in one of Aretuza’s rooms.  _

_ The door opens and Margarita Laux-Antille steps into the room, kneeling by Tissaia’s side.  _

_ “Let me remove the chains, Tissaia,” the woman says. She’s gesturing at the Dimeritium cuffs circling the Rectoress’ wrists.  _

_ Tissaia shakes her head, turning from Rita, curling in on herself. “It hurts just enough to remind me what I did, those people I hurt.” _

_ “It’s been weeks, you’re making yourself sick,” Rita argues, voice rising. _

_ She pauses, meeting Rita’s eyes. “It helps me forget about  _ her _.” _

_ Rita sighs. “Tomorrow,” she says, standing and moving for the door. “And then your pity party is over. Your students need you.” _

_ ~ _

The images fade. Yennefer stares.

“That’s why I practice such control and why I need you too as well. So you would not do what I had done. She wanted me to keep an eye on her family line and I did, right down to the last person in it, until there could not be another. And wouldn’t you know, but that person looks almost just like her.”

Yennefer thinks she knows but wants to hear it from Tissaia herself. 

“It’s you, Yennefer. You are the last in her line. There will never be another after you. You remind me of her so much, it makes it seem like she’s still here.”

“Is that why you slept with me, so you could have sex with her again?” Yennefer doesn’t know why asking that question hurts so much.

“Of course not,” Tissaia snaps with a frown. “While you look like her, there are certainly many respects where you are different. You surprised me,” she says, taking Yennefer’s hand again. “And tomorrow, you will not die. Not because you are descended from the first person I loved. But because, surely you will be the last I love. And I will die, before I see you do.”


End file.
